


Know your place

by LizzyGal



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Peter Parker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Blood, Breeding Kink, CEO Peter Parker, Class Differences, F/M, Marking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Omega Reader, Peter Parker is Tony's Nephew, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Protective Peter Parker, Scent Marking, Smut, Stark Tower, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, dark!Peter, non-consensual biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyGal/pseuds/LizzyGal
Summary: :::Set in a Alternate Universe:::Alpha Peter Parker Stark has inherited the Stark Legacy after his Uncle Tony passes away, and becomes head of the Stark Family Pack.Alpha Peter has a problem though, that problem being he's in love with his niece's Omega Nanny.You're the Omega Nanny. And you too have the feels for the Alpha known as Peter Parker. Although you'd never abuse your position, or think about forgetting your place as a lowly, no name, Omega.What's Alpha Peter to do?:::Content Warning for noncon biting:::
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader
Comments: 23
Kudos: 249
Collections: Explicit Stories





	Know your place

Peter Stark-Parker stood in the doorway of the bedroom, that at one time, had belonged to his Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper. 

Two years and a day ago exactly. 

Two years and a day ago, his world was still complete. Two years and a day ago, he was still in college. Two years and a day ago, he was turning twenty-two and had the world at his feet.

Two years ago, Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper had been killed. Murdered. It was still officially unsolved but Peter had gotten the Stark name vengeance. 

Uncle Tony had many enemies. 

Most of those enemies were gone now and those who remained, well, they knew what fate awaited them if they dared try. They’d known that in the event of Alpha Stark’s death, his fortune and businesses and everything would go to his nephew Peter. They’d assumed that the skinny young Alpha would be an easy push over, someone that would allow them to do as they wanted with Stark Industries and Technologies.

Little did they know.

At first, it had been a surprise. A shock. Why wouldn’t it have been? Peter had survived the deaths of his own parents and then the death of his beloved Uncle Ben. And now, the deaths of Tony and Pepper.

Now their former bedroom looked nothing like it did.

The big luxurious nest-bed was gone. All the furniture had been removed and the closets completely redone, even the wall to the nursery next door had been taken down. Padding had been placed down on the floor and a nest had been made that could easily hold a peewee soccer team. Only the best, softest, scent holding pillows and blankets filled the space. Money had been no option. You’d only had to mention that the nest was getting a bit small as Morgan grew and soon, soon the three of you would outgrow it.

Two years and two days ago, the four of you had been in the nursery, grieving. He could picture it clear as day. Happy sat on the end of the bed. Silent. In shock still, unable to see a way forward with the head of the powerful Stark pack gone. Peter had sat cross-legged in the nest with the sudden weight of the world on his slim shoulders. As you held a wailing screaming pup who wanted her mother, had been refusing to eat or sleep and was terrifying the three adults in the room with the fear that she too would pass from the loss of both parents, before she turned a year old.

The dichotomy in the time between his birthdays stretched out like a slap to his face.

Morgan slept soundly in the spacious nest. 

Having all the space in the world now, the dark haired pup still slept curled up against her nanny. The Omega she’d bonded to in days after her mother had left the earth. She was plump and slept with a smile on her little face, content and secure once more.

It made him proud that his niece thrived under his care.

In the time that had passed, Peter had quit school and fully dedicated himself to running the Stark Empire and taking the mantle as head of the Stark Name. As sole surviving male, it was his duty to ensure his legacy was continued. Morgan Stark would continue it, no matter how her designation presented. Peter’s pups would too.

You slept soundly. Considering all you did to run his household, it was no surprise.

Peter almost felt bad.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, he softly requested FRIDAY lock it and turn on the ambient lights for him, so he didn’t wake you. You all lived in the top floors of Stark Tower. Quite possibly, the most secure building in the Big Apple. However, as Peter had learned the hard way, one could never be too secure.

It was late. Close to two am.

In a few hours he’d get up to go work out and start his day. Until then, he’d curl up in the nest with the two of you. Quickly, he shed his jacket and lost his tie. His cufflinks took longer, but allowed him to watch his niece kick out in her sleep, into the blankets and pillows. Instinctually, your arm came down over the pup’s belly to soothe her in your sleep.

If you ever needed more help, he would hire someone in a heartbeat. 

Until then, the Omega Nanny that his Aunt Pepper hired to help her out was now the nanny for his niece. Along with his housekeeper and cook and laundress and shopper…whatever he asked that Happy didn’t do. All of which you did flawlessly, almost effortlessly.

Happy had gone back to his room after a few months had passed after the funerals.

When it became clear to Happy that the little crush Peter had on you wasn’t a little crush anymore. When Peter didn’t fail like everyone expected, when he thrived under the chaos in the months after the funerals, like a precious stone formed under pressure and intense heat. Peter was an Alpha and there were no more remarks about his slim build or gentle disposition.

Peter no longer had a crush on you.

Peter now had a plan.

Shedding his button-up and slacks, all of which were tossed in the hamper, he then pulled his undershirt off too. Leaving himself in a pair of Calvin’s.

After all, there was a pup in the nest.

Padding over to the bedding, he crawled on hand and knee over to Morgan and pressed a gentle kiss to her warm forehead.

Sleepily, you stirred but didn’t wake, upon sensing Peter in the nest. 

Peter shushed you.

He slid behind you in the bedding as was custom now. Wanting his back to the door. Wanting to be a barrier between his world and the door. Inhaling deeply, he felt himself get hard at your familiar sweet and buttery aroma.

“…happy birthday…” came from you, thickly, slurred in your sleep. 

Happy birthday to him indeed.

His birthday party was fine. Thrown by Uncle Tony’s closest friend, Colonel Rhodes. Everyone was there, people who he knew and many that he didn’t. Everyone had asked about Morgan. Everyone asked what was coming next from Stark Industries and Technology. Everyone had asked about possible pups, a future Bondmate to further the Stark line.

As always, Peter gave them the standard answers.

Morgan was great, thriving and getting into everything.

Cue the laughter.

His company would be making a big announcement that month, about a little something he’d been working on.

Cue the excitement.

He was working on it, the Omega he had his eyes on was traditional and bit wary about life in the public eye.

Cue the understanding nods and encouragement.

One of the Alphas at the party. A woman he wasn’t too fond of but that wasn’t a surprise. Peter didn’t like a good number of people. However, as a drunken Clint Barton went on about how long it took Tony to convince Pepper to be his Bondmate, Peter didn’t miss the Alpha Maria Hill remark, “ _Sometimes you just have to take what you want…unless you want to wait as long as your uncle._ ”

And no, he most definitely did not want to wait that long.

_Sometimes you just have to take what you want._

Pressing a soft kiss against the back of your neck, Peter settled into the nest against you. He savored your warmth and softness as he considered his options. He had a plan. A good plan. A reasonable plan involving a proposition and many points, counterarguments and alternatives.

_Sometimes you just have to take what you want._

He could also take Maria’s words to heart.

He really was tired of waiting. 

He was tired of your telling him that you were both too different. He was tired of you telling him that it would not be appropriate. He was tired of you saying that you would be taking advantage of him. He was tired of you saying that the only reason he felt like this, was because of what you’d both been through together, that he was getting too attached to you and once he found _his Omega,_ his head would clear. He didn’t want to hear _what will people say_ , ever again. 

Peter wasn’t a child.

Peter didn’t want to hear any of that nonsense anymore.

If you refused to recognize what the two of your shared, well, he would make you see reason. If you refused to see reason. Well he had a solution for that too. He would do what his ancestors before did. He’d chase you down, put his mark on your neck and make you his for the rest of your life.

By this time next year, you’d be plump with his pup, or plump from his pup as you fed a tiny little Stark from your breast, in the nest that would hold his growing family.

***

Screaming loudly and happily, Morgan ran into the steam filled bathroom, wearing only a pair of bright pink panties with her long dark hair streaming behind her like ribbons, having escaped you in your cruel and most heartless attempt to pull her leggings on.

Clearly you were the absolute worst.

You’d managed to feed the child as well as her uncle, who was another story entirely and had hoped to get her dressed quickly so you could get dressed and maybe, just maybe, clean the kitchen before you went out to take her to her pediatrician for a final follow-up, after another particularly painful ear infection.

Needless to say, you were glad to see the pup back on her feet and running around.

You’d been terrified when the little pup was so ill. You’d taken her to the ER in the wee morning hours with Peter. The two of you had spent several sleepless nights with the crying, uncomfortable pup. Taking turns holding her, giving her medicine and trying to feed her, get her to sleep, walking around and singing to her, rocking her to try and comfort the pup.

“Morgan…pup…” you called, sighing.

It was just going to be one of those days.

You had a ton to do. Plus, later that day, you had to pack for the trip to California that you and Morgan would be joining Peter for, and you had to squeeze in a quick meeting with Peter and his lawyer. Just to hammer out the details of your contract renewal. Which somehow you doubted would be that big of a deal. More time consuming than anything. But still, as an Omega, you needed to be sure that you were protected and especially as an Omega, in a situation as precarious as your own.

In the months after Alpha Tony and Omega Pepper’s deaths, Morgan had bonded to you and you to her.

You shouldn’t have allowed it to happen. You’d recognized the symptoms when it had happened, but, you’d allowed it to happen, your grief overcoming all sense of reason.

If you’d been a better Omega, a better person, you would have handed the child over to her Aunt May and allowed Morgan to bond to an actual family member. But you were not good. That you’d allowed it to happen was proof enough.

Fluffing your hair. You padded after the pup just knowing where she had gone. Off to go terrorize her Uncle Peter, which you allowed as frequently as possible. It was good for the young man. In your firm opinion, you believed that all Alpha’s needed to have a healthy fear of god in them, from one thing or another.

Younger than you by six years, you took it upon yourself to be sure he filled that father void for Morgan. It was your firm opinion, that it was good for the both of them.

Shrieks drifted from the bathroom that was attached to the master bedroom. Which, you really did need to get out of one of these days. You’d thought about adding that to your list of demands for your new contract but didn’t want to sleep apart from Morgan. And Morgan desperately needed to have the presence of her uncle in the nest when she slept. Which meant you’d be waking up twenty minutes before Peter’s alarm went off to find him curled against the back of you, hard as a fucking rock, for the foreseeable future. Unless your internal clock took pity on you and let you sleep.

That probably wasn’t going to happen with your luck.

Using your foot, you pushed open the bathroom door and were greeted to even more shrieking, happy laughing and a sight that had been taking your breath away ever since Peter decided to tell you that he thought it would be a fabulous idea, if the two of you started having sex.

Alphas.

You could barely live with them, you weren’t allowed to kill them.

There she sat, perched up on her uncle’s hip just happy as a clam. Not that you could blame the child. If you got to ride her Uncle Peter, well, that’d probably put a smile on your face too.

The Uncle Peter who stood at the sink, was not the same Uncle Peter who’d been by your side when you both had held the great Alpha, Tony Stark’s hand, as he succumbed to his wounds. Bled to death right in Peter’s arms. That Peter had been just barely out of adolescence compared to the Peter at the sink. The Peter before you with a towel wrapped around his sculpted waist, was very much an Alpha entering the prime of his manhood. Without a doubt, he was the head of the Stark Mantle. He did not just run his Uncle’s companies, he commanded them and he had a soft spot for children. One that would make any Omega bare their neck and beg for a good old-fashioned biting.

Alpha Stark had asked you, with his dying words, to look after his daughter and nephew, to take care of them. With his dying words.

No matter how fabulous Peter made his body look by working out incessantly. You weren’t going to take advantage. He was younger than you by a few plus years. It didn’t matter how good he looked in designer suits, custom made, to make him look like sin.

You had a pup to look after, a household to run, shit to do and people to see.

“I’m helpin…” Morgan announced, reaching up and smearing the shaving cream lathered on her uncle’s face. Covering jawlines sharp enough to cut.

Of course she was.

You didn’t bother to enter the spacious steamy bathroom. You knew better. So instead, you crossed your arms and leaned in the doorway. You could be just as salty there. “Oh Morgan…Uncle Peter needs more help than either you or I could dream of providing. Uncle Peter needs special help, professional help.”

Morgan was a bit too young to fully grasp what you told her, as she smeared away with little fingers.

Brown eyes smoldered in the mirror at you, as Peter held his razor under the faucet. His voice was soft but his words never were. “Why don’t you come closer. Come on over here. I’ll show you the meaning of helpful.”

Needless to say, you remained in the doorway. 

You were totally able to not look at the muscular expanse of his back and maintain your dignity. As you’d memorized it a while ago.

“That would be inappropriate Peter,” because you were past the point of calling him Alpha Peter. No one could ever again be Alpha Stark. And Mister Peter, or Mister Stark, just didn’t feel right. Considering there was a whole list of Omega’s from equally influential families, a few packs even, who would have been more than happy to be helpful. Not that Peter had ever done more than look at said list. He was stubborn, just like his uncle.

Like his uncle, he also seemed to have difficulty remembering his place.

Alpha Tony had spent years pursuing his Omega, his former personal assistant, before she finally gave into him and they’d spent the few years together they had happily. However, the late Alpha Stark had been an eccentric rascal. No one had been surprised when he’d courted and pursued the Potts Omega for years, until she finally relented. 

“Don’t you worry,” you assured him. “We’ll find you someone suitable to play with. You won’t have to wait as long as your Uncle Tony.”

And no, Peter had no intention of waiting that long. He would get his Omega that day, that very afternoon, one way or the other. He wasn’t anywhere near as patient as his dearly departed uncle.

You didn’t have to say it to Peter again.

He was sick of hearing you say those words. 

_Remember your place._

Just yesterday, his lawyer had told him the same thing, while dropping off paperwork for your work contract.

“ _Don’t do this sir,_ ” he’d said. “ _You need to remember your place sir. You’re a Stark. She’s just an Omega, the help, a caretaker to Morgan. You should bind yourself to an Omega of equal worth. You can have any Omega you want._ ”

Peter had broken his jaw after that remark.

If he could have any Omega he wanted, then he wanted you. He didn’t want anyone else. He didn’t need a good name or wealth, he had both in spades. What he wanted couldn’t be bought.

And he knew his place. It was at the top.

Settling his niece higher up on his waist, he coyly shared a look with the child who covered her cheeks with his shaving cream. “Hear that pup? Our Omega’s going to find me someone to play with…what do you think of that?”

Morgan shook her head, “No!”

You rolled your eyes.

Peter looked over her head and shrugged, “Well there you go. No. She’s spoken.”

Shaving cream was flung on the mirror, on the sink, on her uncles arm and in Morgan’s hair. “No no no.”

“You should take your new little life coach to work with you then. I’m sure she’ll have a ton of insight for you at your board meeting.”

Ignoring that, Peter pressed his forehead to Morgan’s. “Do you think we should bite our Omega? Make her stay with us forever?”

To which, you threw your gaze upwards, “Peter!”

Enthusiastically, Morgan nodded, “Yeah!”

In Peter’s personal opinion, you were already family. You’d bonded to his niece. Why not make it official? It was like, you were being given to him, for everything he’d suffered.

Little biting snaps came from Morgan. Which was around the time you came into the bathroom. Secure in the knowledge, if you didn’t reacquire the child, she’d be trying to bite you all day again. 

Feet slapping wetly on the shiny black tile, you made entry and easily grabbed the pup from her uncle’s hip with minimal effort. Considering the creature had her teeth bared right at you. “For fuck sake Peter…you gotta stop telling her that, she’ll be trying to bite me all day now.” Leading you to flip her over under your arm like a football. Little legs and arms wiggling wildly. 

At the modern sleek hands-free sink, everything being motion detected, Peter rested his razor down on a towel, on the smooth polished steel surface and reached for the bowl of shaving cream he’d whipped up. In order to touch up the places that Morgan had adjusted for him.

“If you keep teasing her like that, she’ll never accept the Omega that you eventually settle down with,” you admonished, keeping to yourself that it wasn’t exactly fun for you either. Would you like to have his mark on your neck? Without a doubt. Would you like to go to bed with the young Alpha to explore his body properly? Absolutely. Would you like to be claimed, loved, wanted and treasured? Who didn’t, really? 

Your scent gave you away. 

Peter’s nose twitched. He inhaled deeply. Dropping the brush on the floor, clattering on the harsh surface, getting shaving cream on his barefeet, your barefeet, the floor. Your scent thickened in a reaction, telling him as your Alpha, because he was, he was your Alpha and you just didn’t seem to understand it, that you were upset over something. As always, your scent exposed it. His dick hardened beneath his towel.

Peter reached out for you.

Not being tall had never bothered him. When he presented as an Alpha, it’d been a surprise due to his size. Although expected too, as the Stark family only made Alpha’s. Even Tony’s sisters, his Aunt May and mom, were Alphas. Peter was strong and well-built where it counted. He was a Stark and ran his legacy with absolute authority, therefore, he was not ashamed of his size when other Alpha’s were huge. Being only a smidge taller than you allowed him to rest his forehead to yours and step closer. It allowed your bodies to match up better. It allowed him to feel the pounding of your heart against his bare chest.

Reaching out, he stroked your face with his palm, rubbing his wrist against you, scenting you, making your eyes roll up into your head as usual.

For a smaller guy, the scent that came out of Peter was powerful and intoxicating. It was sharp and exotic and heady, like an expensive perfume or a rare wood, a luxurious suit. It made you think of velvet and the darkest midnight blue. It would have rocked you back had he not hooked a calf around yours.

“Let me bite you,” he offered, much like the devil would offer you anything in the world.

Just like the devil, he knew how true his words were, they weren’t close to home…they were in the house and chilling on the sofa.

“You know I want you. I know you want me. We have a home together. You’re bonded to my family…”

His mouth was so close to yours, he smeared shaving cream on your chin and cheek.

“Peter…” you breathed out, so much going into that one word.

“Don’t say it,” he countered knowing, just knowing. He opened his eyes to see that yours were closed. Your face a mask of bliss from his scent alone. “I know my place. I know your place too. Right here with me. Even Morgan knows it.”

Speaking of that particular devil, you let out a shriek as a sharp pain shot through your hip from little white teeth, breaking whatever hold that your Alpha, no, your boss, definitely your boss, had over you.

***

Morgan was not particularly happy with things.

Not only did she have to put on pants, but, she had to get poked and prodded by a doctor who smelled like cabbage, in a sterile room that made her nose burn. And just after she finally started feeling good too. Her Auntie Omega stood in the corner of the room looking upset, smells of the sweetness that wafted off you twisted into something burnt, further upsetting Morgan.

Where was her Uncle Peter? 

Morgan had looked around desperately for him. Knowing surely that he never would allow such vile treatment of her, not her Uncle Peter. 

When Morgan attempted to escape Doctor Cabbage, to go make Auntie Omega feel better, a nurse wearing icky smelling rubber gloves held her down as the cabbage smelling man put something cold and round on her back. Adding insult upon insult. As Uncle Peter had told her every night, while telling her stories about Mama and Papa, pointing out their pictures in the album and on the walls and in frames throughout her home, they were Stark’s.

Struggling, wiggling, attempting to break free and return to the warm and soft and safe arms of her Auntie Omega, Morgan thrashed, unable to voice her discontent in all the words she would have liked, her vocabulary still growing.

With a blue rubber gloved hand, the nurse pointed at her, having the utter audacity to admonish her, a Stark! 

Morgan did the only thing she could in her position as a toddler.

Morgan bit the nurse. 

Twice.

And then she bit the doctor too, for good measure.

In fact, she didn’t stop snapping her teeth until Auntie Omega came back and held her, allowing her to burrow in the sweet-smelling warm arms of her protector and nurturer. The person who she spent most her days with and played with, and slept beside. All her memories not involving her Uncle Peter were of Auntie Omega. Uncle Happy too. But he wasn’t in the brightly colored, foul smelling exam room.

Morgan remained burrowed in like a tick. Little hands clung to her world’s silk blouse, her little face remained hidden underneath the crook of her arm or curve of her breast.

As the appointment went on for what felt like forever for the pup, Morgan noticed her Auntie held her tighter, voice changing as she began to tremble.

Naturally, this got the pups attention.

Her Omega was upset. Uncle Peter would never have allowed this to happen. Uncle Peter wouldn’t allow Doctor Cabbage to upset his Omega like this, making her brush tears away and hurriedly take pieces of paper the nurse had handed Doctor Cabbage.

Morgan petted her Auntie Omega and hissed at the Cabbage smelling man.

She rumbled unhappily when you paused at the receptionist, trying your best to not be emotional, as the pup in your arms reacted to your feelings and thickening scent. There was no need to pay or sign anything. Everyone knew you at the pediatricians office as the Stark Nanny. Just as they all knew Morgan Stark on sight. 

You waved to the older Beta behind the desk, to let her know you’d be leaving. A bill would be sent to Peter like always. You no longer carried cash, or a purse. You never paid for anything anymore. If you went shopping or had an appointment, it was billed to Peter. In the rare event that you needed cash for something that just popped up. Perhaps…an ice cream for Morgan from a food-truck or you happened to flip through a book at a little shop, Happy was there with cash or card before you had a chance to realize you didn’t have a purse anymore.

You did have a handbag full of things, so many things.

Toys. Snacks. A change of clothes for the pup. Extra shoes just in case. Your phone and whatever book you were reading.

Your handbag was in the car that waited for you downstairs, in the parking garage.

And it was waiting for you when you stepped out of the elevator, doing your best to quell the wave of emotions that threatened when you thought back to what the doctor had told you.

Happy opened the back door for you and the second that you put Morgan in her car-seat, she began to screech and yowl in outrage at the treatment she’d received. Little hands desperately reached for you in her little fit. Thus making real tears spill from you as a result. Between the pitch of her screams and her kicking and fighting, your immediate instinct was to take her in your arms, calm her, soothe her, whisper softly over her soft dark hair and scent her till she knew she was the most loved pup in all the world.

For nearly the entire way home from the appointment, you sobbed and she fought like a wounded animal in a trap.

Thankfully, you were able to gather your collective shit together by the time Happy drove into the garage beneath Stark Tower. His gaze popping up in the mirror numerous times over the drive. Each time you’d assured him everything was fine, Morgan was ok and that was all you could get out.

And you needed a moment, just a moment.

After you managed to stop your body shaking sobs that left your cheeks wet with hot tears, your mouth salty and your body flushed. The car reeked and Morgan was beside herself, to the point you had to hold her for a good bit after unhooking her from her carseat. After which, the pup clung to you desperately. Little arms wrapped around you as she burrowed her nose against your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, until she was absolutely positive that you were ok and she was in your arms.

Even with all your effort, you couldn’t fix nearly twenty minutes of hard earth-shattering sobbing.

It just could not be done.

Fixing your makeup couldn’t make the reddening around your nose go away, your swollen bottom lip go down from where you bit it, trying to get yourself under control on the ride, or clear up your bloodshot eyes. Forget your scent. That would take nothing short of scent blockers to bring under control.

Phyllis Jenkins, Peter’s secretary that he inherited from his Uncle Tony, took one look at you as you stepped out of the elevator, on the floor where Peter’s office was and shook her head. 

The short, plump and immaculately dressed African-American Omega simply pointed to the office door behind her, that was most definitely shut. “Oh no! MMmmm, he’s in there…give me that pup. You gonna have your hands full dealing with him going in there like that.”

You paused at Phyllis’s desk.

Did you really look that bad?

Phyllis rose and held out her hands, which you deposited the squirming Morgan in. Although she did not squirm for long, breathing in Phyllis’s familiar citrusy floral scent. It was not long at all before the pup was resting on her hip, wrapping her arms around Phyllis, softly asking for a cookie.

You’d been forgotten. Dismissed for a savory treat.

Not that you could blame her. 

In that moment, you could have eaten your weight in cookies. Phyllis was right. Peter was not going to be happy and you didn’t dare ask how bad you looked. Before stepping to the office door, you took a deep calming breath that was broken and gaspy, earning a noise from Phyllis as she dug into her desk for a cookie. You wiped your damp palms on your black silk shorts. 

Then, you stepped forward, knocked twice and opened the heavy office door that once belonged to the Alpha Tony Stark. 

It was a big office. A grand office. An office fit for a king.

One wall was completely made up of floor to ceiling windows, giving a priceless view of Manhattan and it appeared you’d interrupted some sort of business meeting. Peter was behind a massive modern steel desk, in a custom-made designer suit that fit him like a glove and looked even better. Worth every penny if you had to say so. In a burgundy color that not too many would have been able to pull off. Although, in your honest opinion, Peter could wear a black plastic garbage bag and Omegas could drop down to their knees at the sight and go into instantaneous heat. 

You, thank god, were on suppressants.

Just that year alone, Peter had gone into three ruts. All of which he tended to privately at home, with the best, most lifelike toys available. The bastard. He really was just not budging an inch on you.

In front of that desk that could have qualified as a small European country in size, were two men and one woman. 

All eyes fell on you.

Which just made you feel _so_ much better.

Tiredly, you held up the papers that the pediatrician had given you. Maybe you could get in and out quickly?

“I just need your signature real quick Mister Parker,” you got out. “It’s for the pediatrician. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

The two Alpha’s and one Beta in front of the desk relaxed in their seats.

“Give us ten minutes,” Peter told them, eyes on you. Words not allowing a response in their severity. “Wait out in my waiting area. Phyllis will let you know when you can come back in.”

All three hopped back up, walking with expediency towards the office door and shutting it soundly behind them. 

By then Peter had already risen from his uncle’s chair. Surrounded by his own, as well as his family’s accomplishments in photos on the walls, awards and models of technology, weapons, computer systems, AI programs and more.

His Omega was upset.

He could see it, smell it and feel it long before he reached out to place his hand on your face. His palm slid over your set jaw, fingers wove into your hair as his thumb caressed the rise of your cheek.

And that was when you lost it.

His compassion did you in.

Like a toothpick trying to hold the weight of a stove, you broke. Tears began again, you let out a gasp and began to sob at the memory of what the Pediatrician had so crisply told you. Cutting your strings and nearly sending you to the floor in the exam room, not so long ago.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. We can get through anything together. Just you and me. Tell me. What is it Omega? What’d the doctor say?” 

His tone was gentle, far different from how he dismissed the people from his office moments earlier. He stepped closer to you. He pressed his forehead to yours and held your face in both his palms. Scenting you. Warming you. Pressing your body against the corner of his desk to pin you in, cornering you. Peppering your nose and cheeks with soft kisses and skin on skin touches.

Needing to feel him, you grabbed his wrists, clung to him. 

Sobs wracking your frame, you managed to get out through little breathy gasps. “Morgans…ok. She…needs…tubes and…he told me…you…have…to…go. I’m…I’m…I’m…just a…domestic…employee…” Which led to even more hot tears burning your eyes. 

How simply the Alpha Doctor had ripped out your heart, pierced your lungs, took away your voice with such cold, sterile, blasé words. As if the pup, Peter, this family were not your entire world. You would probably never have one of your own because you’d bonded to Morgan. You’d never find an Alpha of your own, or have your own pups, or start your own family because you were part of this one, because you raised Morgan and looked after Peter. To have your life cut down so clinically…it physically hurt.

You’d never felt so small, so useless.

You tried so hard to stop crying. You tried so hard to get it together. You didn’t want to just fall apart and be a stereotypical overly emotional Omega. Peter and Morgan though, they weren’t just your job, they were your life. You all slept in the same nest. You all ate together, traveled together, lived together and loved one another.

Peter’s arms wrapped around you, pulled you close against him, enveloping you in his intoxicating scent that swept over you. Washing away your day, Morgan’s appointment, all those horrible words. Gone. Inhaling his scent made your head spin. You buried your nose against the fabric covered hollow of his throat and allowed him to rock you.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll deal with him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You are a part of our family. You’re ours.” In Peter’s opinion, you’d become a member of his family when you held his dying uncle, cradling him in your arms, as you both tried to stop the copious amounts of bleeding. Not that either of you could have ever stopped it. When Peter closed his eyes, he could see it clear as day. Holding Uncle Tony’s bloody hand. Pepper dead a few feet away. Both of you had been desperate, hysterical and shocked.

By the end of the day, you’d officially be family. 

It had never been clearer to him than in that moment. He would make you a member of the Stark Pack in a matter of hours. One way or another.

“Have Happy take Morgan to her gymnastics class and then out for ice cream and to the park.” Peter murmured against your ear. “Go upstairs and relax. I’ll be up at two so we can go over paperwork. Ok? Take a nice long bath, read your book, make yourself one of your fancy coffees.”

Shakily, you nodded and Peter pressed his mouth to the top of your head, your temple, your ear.

By the end of the day, this would never happen again.

Peter would fix this. 

No one would ever say such a thing to you again. Never, would you ever question the security of your place in the world. Everyone would know who you belonged to, that you were a Stark, that you were Peter’s Bondmate.

By the end of the day, when he held you, you would be his and his mark would be on your perfect unblemished neck. Just looking down he could see it. So smooth, so lovely. He could see down your shirt and the curve of your breast. But your neck was so much more tempting. It’d be so easy to lean down and just sink his teeth into your soft gland. It was just right there…but he’d give you a choice. He’d wanted to give you the opportunity to be courted and wooed. He wanted to give you everything you deserved and more. 

***

“FRIDAY…” Peter called out behind his desk, clicking out of his emails as he prepared to head upstairs, his workday at the office done. If he did anymore work it would be upstairs and later. Either up in his home office, or up in his private labs and workspaces.

A soft accented voice came down from the ceiling, from all around really.

“Yes, Master Peter?”

Clicking. Clicking. Deleting. Clicking,

Peter inquired, “Does Pediatrics and Associates where Morgan had her appointment today have stockholders?”

There was a moment, a second passed.

Then came that musical voice. “Yes, it does Master Peter.”

Taking that information in and processing it, he knew what he wanted to do. He knew exactly what he would do. No longer a child, he could be patient. “Buy up as many stocks as you can FRIDAY. I want to be the majority shareholder of that practice as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Master Peter. I’ll alert you when the process is complete.”

And then he would take immense pleasure in not only firing that Alpha, but, in blacklisting him not only out of the city, but the entire eastern seaboard. By the time Peter was done, he would be working in a small town in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma somewhere.

Oh, he was going to take so much pleasure in ruining that Alpha.

Rising from his chair, he grabbed his laptop and was off. His mind a sea of this and that, splashing around from the biggest tidal wave of them all. The ultimatum he now had for you.

He could not go on like this. He just could not. He would not. And he wasn’t going to make you endure another minute of it either.

Running fingers through his hair, he strolled through what was now his office and upon opening the door, he cast his gaze to Phyllis, who was packing up her desk to leave early too. At the sight of Peter, she reached over her computer and produced a purple Post It note.

“Here you go baby. This is my sister’s doctor for her pups. Everybody in there is good but she sees the two Betas mostly.”

Taking the paper, he gave her a smile. “Thank you, Phyllis. Would it be an inconvenience if we spent an extra day in California? I was thinking that Morgan may be old enough to enjoy the park.”

The look Phyllis gave him, told him that he was indeed correct, in his assumption, that it would be fine.

Plus, time away after this afternoon would be just what you needed, to come to terms with whatever you decided. What better place to do that then the Stark cliffside beach house? It’d been in his pack for decades and was one of your favorite properties.

“Bring back some goodies for me. My little grandpup loves Princess Tiana by the way.”

Leading Peter to squint for one moment, “That’s the one with the frog? Right?”

“Mmmhmmm,” was Phyllis’s answer, as she flung her bag over her arm and bumped her chair under her desk. “You’re going to have to memorize all these movies. Especially if you’re gonna have that big litter of pups you keep talking about.”

So many pups.

Peter wanted to have a big family. He wanted a big and warm home. He wanted to give Morgan cousins. He wanted you to have his pups. He wanted to build on what the two of you had created over the past couple years.

Peter wasn’t a fool.

He may have been the one to take the mantle of his family legacy. But he could not have done it without your support or love. You kept his home, you cared for his niece, you kept him whole and everything that you gave was unconditional. You gave and gave and gave as was true to your designation. He cared for you and shared his life and home and quite frankly, that was not enough anymore.

Peter saw Phyllis to the elevator with promises of bounty galore from California. After which, he took the private elevator up to the private floors that housed his private workspaces and living quarters.

Stopping nowhere in between.

Peter went directly to his home office, where, he put his laptop on his smaller desk. An antique that belonged to the Alpha Howard Stark’s father. Heavy wood. Carved. Many drawers and hidden compartments.

Peter was not nervous, no.

Peter’s Alpha would have never allowed it, not with what he was about to suggest, offer up. Peter was eager. Peter was impatient. Peter wanted to get this done so he could have what he wanted.

Finally, unable to do anything more, he plopped down in his wheeled chair and closed his eyes.

Bright and early you all would fly out. He had meetings and business, but wanted to get you and Morgan settled in the Malibu house first. You’d have the weekend there and Monday, he’d planned on coming back to New York. But Tuesday was fine. Tuesday would work just fine.

A soft knocking led Peter to open his eyes.

And there, in the doorway, you stood. 

Hair damp but pulled up. Smelling like a perfect mix of his bodywash and the buttery sweet hints that were entirely you. You had pulled back on that creamy silk blouse and those black tailored shorts. But you were calmer. You were relaxed, more in control and it made him smile. 

“Feeling better Omega?”

Nodding, you entered his office, a shocking tribute to family antiques, heirlooms and heritage with a wide assortment of old things. Out of place in the modern spaces that made up the rest of the tops floors of Stark Tower.

In your hand was a piece of paper.

Glancing around, you plopped down in one of the three different chairs around his desk. You picked the big leather cushy one that crinkled when you sat and had a certain old leathery smell to it. “Where’s the lawyer?”

“Busy,” Peter offhandedly remarked. “Not that I expect this to take long. Did you make a list of all the things you wanted?” 

Contract negotiations for Omega’s were a delicate matter. What with there not being that many of them around and the laws that had been enacted to protect them in the workplace. Lawyers were necessary to be sure their voices were heard and their few rights protected. Gone were the days of Omega’s having to worry about Alpha employers chasing them around workplaces, forcing their marks on them.

You found it odd, but said nothing about it. Sliding your meager list of six requests across the desktop.

Peter sat up and grabbed it. Holding it up, his chocolate eyes scanned over it quickly, with minimal, if any reaction. “Ok, done.” Was his response as he reached over to snag a few pieces of paper that were stapled together on his desk, which he then slid over to a somewhat surprised you.

You’d expected him to have at least a little bit of a reaction. But no. Peter was surprisingly chill, even for him.

Maybe this would go quick and easy?

Taking the papers of his requests, your eyes scanned over the first page once…twice and then a third time, as Peter sagged back in his uncle’s chair and watched you closely.

Your disbelief only grew as you flipped to the second page.

By the time you came to the third page, you were astounded.

What was in your hands was not a renewal of your workplace contract. Oh no. It was a Bondmate Contract. 

You’d heard of such things.

For the most part, they were outdated and gone the way of the dodo bird. A harkening back to the turn of the century. Now, if they were at all used, it was in elite circles where unions were still arranged. In the circles that Peter grew up.

“Are you…are you serious?”

Your eyes scanned the legalese. Your gaze roamed over the words. A whole timeline was set up on how the relationship would progress over the next few months, year. When the mutual marking would happen. What would be expected from you and what you could expect from Peter.

Pups, it seemed he wanted pups soon. 

Your eyes widened at the list of assets he’d bring to the pairing.

It was too much. It was all too much. You put down the papers and smacked your hand on them. “Peter! No! What have I told you? You need to get this idea out of your head.”

“No,” was his response to you.

No.

Because why wouldn’t he say no. 

You ground your teeth and squeezed the spot between your eyes at the top of your nose. 

“We’re a family. We share our lives together. We love each other,” he stated.

Making your hand become a fist on top of the papers and your other falling in your lap. Viciously you reprimanded him. “Sometimes love is not enough! You have a duty to your name and I come from nothing, nowhere! You remember how horrible things were for Pepper in the years that she and Alpha Tony courted, before they finally married! All that cruelty and gossip and hostility she faced being an Omega from a common family. I will not subject you or Morgan to it! Not after I promised Alpha Tony that I would take care of you both.”

Calm as ever, Peter responded. And it wasn’t that he didn’t have feelings about what you had said. He had all the feelings. He just had plenty of time to think, calculate and wasn’t by nature an explosive sort of Alpha. He was a thinker, a planner. He was a meticulous sort of soul.

“Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper were different. And, if you remember correctly, all of that stopped once he got his act together and properly bonded with her. I don’t plan to waste all that time. You’re going to have my mark. How you want to do it is entirely up to you. It can be after some carefully orchestrated months with the PR Omega earning her salary. Or, it can be today. The choice is yours.”

Blinking, all you could do was just blink.

Had he lost his ever-loving mind?

Had all his ruts and time celibate driven him this madness?

How could he just sit there, so calm, cool, collected as he told you these things?

You weren’t going to even pretend that this wasn’t something that you hadn’t fanaticized about, at least once a day. Maybe. But you knew better. You knew what there was to risk. You weren’t about to let him drag himself down, from the golden throne he’d claimed since Alpha Tony had passed, to slum around with you.

Having had time to yourself was good. That bath had helped clear your head. That foul smelling pediatrician was correct. You weren’t a family member. You were domestic help and you were getting far too familiar.

Tony and Pepper getting murdered had been a total shock. But, it had been a few years and you needed to get your act together. You’d let your emotions get the better of you. And clearly, you’d made many mistakes if this was what Peter was suggesting.

The whole thing was completely out of control.

Your scent began to thicken as your emotions grew.

“Peter…” you began, attempting to find reason in your sea of growing feelings. “This is insanity. What are you going to do? Chase me around till you catch me and then mark me?”

So calmly you could barely believe it, he nodded from his chair, “Yes.”

Yes?

Yes.

Why wouldn’t he say yes?

Deeply you sighed, “Peter…”

Peter shifted in the chair. “I’ll give you to the count of five. You can either sign that contract. Or, you can get a head start. It is entirely up to you.”

In utter disbelief, you stared. “What?”

“One,” he began.

Your mouth dropped. Your eyebrows met. Your spine became rigid. “Are you serious?”

“Two,” he continued from that chair, adjusting his burgundy tie and even unbuttoning his jacket.

Which led your Omega to begin to stir, to your heart beat kicking up a notch or two. Especially when he sat up and slipped his jacket off, so he could begin to take out his cufflinks. 

“You’re serious…” was your response and you rose from your chair.

One cufflink that had belonged to his father, from the highly distinguished Parker Pack, hit the desk as he went to work on the other. “Oh I’m very serious…three.” As he went to remove the other, he raised his voice just slightly. “FRIDAY…lockdown the top three floors for the next hour. No calls in or out. I do not want to be bothered.”

FRIDAY’s voice floated around the office. “Yes, Master Peter.”

And that was when you hurried from the office, still somewhat shocked.

His voice drifting out after you. “Four…”

You began to run. Your hindbrain urging you to get somewhere safe till you could sort this out, till you could think of something to do.

And it wasn’t that you didn’t want everything he offered. You just knew it wasn’t realistic, or acceptable in the world that you lived. Your lives were already enough of struggle. Why make them worse? For love? Tony and Pepper loved one another and wound up murdered. Sometimes love just wasn’t worth it. Look at where it got them.

Hurrying down the hallway, you could feel your pits begin to dampen and your breathing kicking up.

FRIDAY would lock everything down. There was no way to escape. You wouldn’t be going anywhere. Where could you hide though? There was no hiding. He could find you. Especially when you were painting the air with your pheromones.

Your feet carried you down the hallway, into the massive living room which had a huge piano, Morgan’s play area, a view of the city that took up one whole wall, art and furniture, an entertainment area, it was massive.

For a moment you paused.

Could you sequester yourself somewhere here? Ride this out until you could talk some reason into Peter, or till Happy got back? Whenever the hell that was going to happen?

This was not something you ever would have expected from Peter. 

Not Peter. Never Peter.

Movement from the corner of your eye got your attention.

Spinning around, you were greeted to the sight of an approaching Peter. His scent alone nearly took you out at the knees. So luxurious and complex and out of your reach.

Up your hands went to fend him off.

Up your hands went to keep some distance, to try and keep him away.

“Peter…Peter…” You attempted to reason with him, or tried. There didn’t seem to be any changing his mind. Not when his hands grabbed your wrists, pulled you close and god was he strong. When did he get to be that physically strong? Oh right…all those hours and days and weeks and months and years working out and training.

As hard as you could, you did your best to fight and struggle, surrounded by priceless art, sleek furniture and a view of living glass and steel.

Both of your wrists were held tightly in his hand, as you were shoved against the back of a couch. Penned in effectively as you resisted as much as possible.

“Peter,” you shouted, when you felt his other hand yank your collar aside and grip your shoulder.

Soulful brown eyes bore into yours. “I’m not waiting as long as Uncle Tony did. I’m ending our suffering right now.”

And then, his body was against yours, pressing into you. All you could smell was the sharp tangy scent that was Peter. All you could feel was his warm body and skin against your neck, his hot wet mouth over your Mating Gland and then teeth. Wasting no time at all, Peter bit you. Fast. Hard. Deep. Breaking your skin. Piercing your gland. Making you scream from the pain and surprise and shock that he would actually do this to you. Dark strands of his hair tickled your face. Metallic hints of your own blood teased your nose. 

With a popping in your ears, as if they’d reached elevation, you felt the bond hit you like a slap to the face. Your knees went weak. Goosebumps broke out all over you and you could taste him. You could taste his scent on your tongue, you heard your blood pumping through your veins.

Home. 

Peter had brought you home.

He pulled back his face to wipe the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve, leaving a smear behind, his eyes nearly black, his nostrils flaring.

Reaching up, you touched your gland. 

Now wet with blood. Skin broken beneath your fingertips. Fresh sharp pain came from the contact as a slow throb began to start, mixing with the pain from Peter’s bite and the heat, the warmth that infused your blood and flesh and very being, touching a part of you it shouldn’t have been able to reach.

Before you knew it, your fingers were at his neck, loosening the knot of his tie. 

No words were needed. He understood what you were doing, what you wanted. It was something that he desperately wanted too. It found him yanking his tie down hastily. Your fingers went for the top button of his shirt and then, the next and one more. All as Peter yanked his button-up aside, the collar of his white undershirt too, exposing his perfect Mating Gland to you.

There was no hesitation in your mind.

This Alpha had claimed you, bitten you, took you and he was most certainly yours. He was your home. You wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, your fingers clinging to him as you pressed your mouth against his throat, licking the firm pulsing skin as he begged, pled with you.

“Please…please Omega, bite me.”

Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes and found that soft skin, his gland. A heartbeat later you bit him. You sank your teeth into his gland, finding yourself absolutely overcome with his scent, which seemed to just explode everywhere, in all of your senses. His blood, so hot, intoxicating, taboo. The feel of his skin against your lips, broken from your teeth. 

A ringing in your ears drowned out the waves crashing over you. Both caused from the completion of your bond solidifying. Peter flooded you. His shout was loud, his eyes rolled back as he felt his body release from everything finally snapping into place. His body jerked against yours, finally whole. Ejaculating in his briefs from your bite. Sweat broke out over his skin. A ragged noise came from him. His jaws snapped outside of his control, in a biological response. Everything was right. Everything was as it should be. Everything was set correctly now. The floor tilted on its axis as you took his weight, both of you collapsing to the floor. 

Weak. Overcome. Wild. Frantic.

In a few moments…he felt like he could breathe again. His head felt full of cotton. He panted deeply.

By then your hands were on him. By the time he came to realize that he was on the floor, one big giant mass of throbbing, painfully aching creature, he noticed you had unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, unzipped his fly. 

An unholy shriek came from you at the sight of his briefs.

His head spun when you grabbed him through his grey briefs. Your name fell from his lips. Where had your shorts gone? A flash of bare skin came from beneath your silk shirt, now stained brightly with your blood.

Your nails gouged his soft pelvis when you pulled the elastic band down, only enough to pull out his erection. Smeared with his release. Hardly taking a chance to look, you climbed up on him, straddled him and slid down onto his solid shaft, taking him in you with a deep gasping cry.

“Oh god…Alpha…Alpha…Alpha…”

It hurt. It really did. He was too thick, too big to take so suddenly, without any preparation. Not that you cared. In pain you cried out. Still, it would have hurt more to not have him inside you, to not fulfil this sudden urge that overcame you. One that was as powerful as eating, breathing, walking. If someone were to ask, it felt as if he were tearing you apart, shredding you from the inside out.

Getting off…letting him out of you…no, you would die.

Soft hands touched your face. Smoothed over your cheeks. Kissed your nose and touched the slippery insides of your thighs. Stroked the wet lips of your pussy that were both slippery with your slick, so much of your slick from your bonding and tight from his member, buried to the hilt in your clenching walls. He nearly came again when you bottomed out on him. Only your cries of pain and hoarse breathing pulled him from his stupor.

Your pain tugged at the fresh new bond, pierced through his haze, brought him upright into a degree of clarity. 

Feeling your folds so copiously wet, he quietly asked, stilling your body of all movement. “Have you ever?”

Wincing, your eyes watering. “Yeah…it’s just been a while and you’re…not average.”

Far too lost to claiming and bonding to be proud, Peter rolled you both till you found yourself on your back, him on his knees above you. Fear at him leaving filled you. Coldness clenched at your Omega. Desperately your legs wrapped around his knees. “Don’t leave me.” Your fingers clung to his vest. His loose tie was even still on.

Peter shook his head. He leaned down to lick your bleeding gland, his bitemark a jagged mess of broken skin and blood. Intently he cleaned your gland. Rubbed his cheek to yours, slowly rocked against you. Fingers sneaking through your slick to your clit, to find that right touch which would send you spiraling.

“No. I won’t. I’m right here. I’m with you. Just you and me Omega.” He promised, hips moving gently, with care as his fingers caressed, as his tongue explored until he felt a shift, a release of tension from your body. 

Experientially, he withdrew an inch and pushed back.

Your eyes flew open. He was moving. He was moving and it didn’t hurt. You reached out to grab his hand above your head. Entwined your fingers with his tightly. All so you could look up into his eyes, as he began to slowly move steadily within you. Slicker than you’d ever been. He was still bigger than you’d ever had. You were so full, so overwhelmed, stuffed one could say. It burnt. Your neck burnt. Your entire body burnt. Even your eyes burnt, yet you were unwilling to break away from getting lost in those brown depths.

Having no idea how long he could possibly last with the way you squeezed every freaking last part of him, Peter continued to stroke and thumb your clit, he moved just right to lessen the intensity of the angle for you. As his balls began to tighten in warning, he leaned down and sucked on your maimed gland deeply. Knowing those nerves would set your body off like a firework.

With a cry you came, sending him over the edge with the tight spasming of your walls around him. Milking him. Squeezing him. Sending him towards a release that felt more like a blowout. He shouted and thrust hard, deep, pushing as far as he could into the sanctity that was you, spilling everything he had. His balls seized up. His hips and arms shook. He was reborn in the exquisite sounds you made, as you came undone beneath him.

It was painful and absolute ecstasy. 

You screamed. Your back arched up off the floor. Your legs tightened around his as you felt your Alpha, Peter, pump his hips against your flesh. Distantly it registered that it was unprotected. You didn’t care. Your brain and body and Omega were not concerned with the fact he came so deeply inside you, painting your walls and filling you with his seed. Somehow, you felt every last drop saturating your raw cunt. His cock still hard, telling you how virile your Alpha was, how potent his seed was and that he could go again, fuck you again so wonderfully, rip you apart and make you his, until you screamed out once more, your body forever purged of anyone who came before him. 

That one Beta from your high school days, who never called you back after you’d given him your body for the first time, in the back of his mustang. Or the Alpha you thought would be your Bondmate, who came from a good family but had lied, only wanting you for sex.

No, this was more, so much more. This cleansed them from your thoughts with blood. Not that all things vanished so easily though, so quickly. Movement from Peter made your Omega scream at you in panic.

Somehow, in some way, you managed to string together three syllables. “Please don’t leave.”

And he wouldn’t, couldn’t, no never.

Leaning down, mindful of you and his weight, Peter rested his elbow above your head. As carefully as was possible, he rolled you both to your sides. 

“I won’t,” he softly whispered, pulling you against his chest, brushing his sweaty cheek over your damp forehead. Feeling himself get pushed out of you by the powerful clenching of your walls. In a bit, he’d put himself back in. Soon. “I’m right here. We’re together. No one can keep us apart now.”

Tightly he held you close, pressing his lips over your shoulder and neck, on your bloody gland and cheek. Relishing how tightly you clung to him. Ignoring the feeling of your slick smearing over his thigh as it rolled from you, thick with his cum.

Before he moved, he whispered, so as not to upset you as you came down in his arms. “I’ll text Happy. Tell him to take Morgan to my aunts for the night.”

A noise came from you that sounded agreeable. 

It must have been, since you didn’t panic again when he moved, shifted, dug his phone from his back pocket. Pulling it out and settling with his lean muscled arms back around you, Peter pressed his thumb against the bottom to unlock it with his print.

A text was quickly sent to Happy with a few taps and swipes of his thumb.

After that, he turned it off and returned to you.

_Plan B worked. Take Morgan to Mays for 2night. Stay at the Stark Plaza. See u in the morning_


End file.
